Murder in the Hotel!

The fact is that damning sins are sad and silly. Paolo and Francesca wouldn’t be sliding birth-bagged around if they had really had a happy kiss. Real joy would have pushed its head up like a baby inside that kiss and they would have been saved.

There are other girls walking around like me. Miss Lana del Rey is hoping in the aquarium. It is true that I fear the pains of hell and the loss of heaven. I wouldn’t have slept with a one of those men if I were looking for someone to marry.

In the idiot hotel I slept with the man and then I went and bought holy cards. Look, look, you know what we are missing. Out of the chlorine comes the head with the Big Head eyes, two colored rings and an open mouth with water streaking between its teeth. The head is God and you know when it arrives.

King man in the black hotel. I’ve never met him. You know the way. The chill gets to be too much. Here’s what’s interesting. I am walking down the hill and it’s difficult because of the angle. My womb and ovaries bob and shake, red and white, salting blossoms. I am having surgery so that I can have babies and a lot of sex. I like the third-worst scene in Malena, where she is Mary in the race, shaking from the men’s shoulders, and crying.

I am disappointed in the bad news. The fact is that I am calling to the right man. I want the bad news in the black hotel on the prairie. Look at the line of traffic. I know that there are other women like me. I don’t ask for men like me. I only want them to be quiet enough for me to think.

I know how to love. It is one of the five things I can do. I am not talking about sex. I am saying love. I can love a man for forty years. All it takes is my deciding.

Who will bring me the bad news?

It turns out that men’s desires are mostly sorry. They are mostly memories from their childhoods. I could love this. When I decide to I will. But where is my big blue god, treading through the hotel’s roof like a granddad through a flooded basement?

Murder is boring, rape is boring, adultery and infidelity and drugs are boring. It is all habit. The movies are only reminding you of something. Here comes goblin-God, born in a peach.

Peach boy on the semen seas. Some god came in the water and the beautiful fruit developed. When it got near the shore it was big-toothed. Oh God. Oh God.

You know what I am longing for. The man in the long legs. Look at the long line of traffic from this hopeless distance.

Will you love me in the basement? Will you love me in the carpet? Will you come get me at the rest stop? Are you conscious of your sins?

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